Текст песни: Jay-Z - What More Can I Say

[samples of Maximus from "Gladiator" - Russell Crowe]
"Are you not entertained? Are you not entertained?"
"Is this not why you are here?"

[Jay-Z]
Uh uh-huh..
Uh uh-huh UHH

{*crowd noise gets louder*}

Turn the music up, turn me down
Guru.. let`s go get `em again
This time it`s for the money my nigga
Brooklyn, stand up

[Verse One]
There`s never been a nigga this good for this long
This hood, or this pop, this hot, or this strong
With so many different flows there`s one for this song
The next one I switch up, this one will get bit up
These fucks, too lazy to make up shit, they crazy
They don`t, paint pictures, they just, trace me
You know what? Soon they forget where they plucked
they whole style from, they try to reverse the outcome
I`m like - TOUGH!
I`m not a biter I`m a writer for myself and others
I say a B.I.G. verse, I`m only biggin up my brother
Biggin up my borough, I`m big enough to do it
I`m that thorough, plus I know my own flow is foolish
So them rings and things you sing about, bring `em out
It`s hard to yell when the bar-rell`s in your mouth
I`m in - new sneakers, dual-seaters
Few divas, what more can I tell you?
Let me spell it for you
Double-U I, double-L, I-E
Nobody truer than, H-O-V
And I`m back for more, New York`s ambassador
Prime Minister, back to finish my business up

[Chorus]
What more can I sayyyyyyyyyyy?
What more can I doooooooooooo?
I gave this up to youuuuuuuuu
I know this much is truuuuuue, truuuuuuue

[Jay-Z]
What more can I say to you?
You heard it all

[Verse Two]
You already know what I`m about, flyin birds down South
Movin wet off the step, "Purple Rain" in a drought
Stuntin on hoes; brushin off my shirt
But ain`t nuttin on my clothes `cept my chain, my name
Young H-O pitch the yay faithful
Even if they patrol I make payroll
Benz paid fo`, friends they roll
Private jets down to Turks and Caicos
Crist` caseloads, I don`t give a shit
Nigga one life to live, I can`t let a day go
by without me bein fly or fresh to death
Head to toe `til the day I rest
And I don`t wear jerseys, I`m thirty plus
Give me a crisp pair of jeans, nigga button up
S. Dots on my feet make my cipher complete
What more can I say? Guru play the beat!

We gon` let this ride into the hook
- I`ma snap my fingers on this one
What more can I say to you?
- Get my grown man on
LET`S GO!

(What more can I sayyyyyyyyyyy?)

[Verse Three]
Now you know yo` ass is Willie when they got you in the mag
for like half a billy, and yo` ass ain`t lily
white that mean that shit you write must be illy
Either that or your flow is silly - it`s both
I don`t mean to boast, but damn if I don`t brag
Them crackers gon` act like I ain`t on they ass
The Martha Stewart, that`s far from Jewish
Far from a Harvard student, just had the balls to do it
And no I`m not through with it
In fact, I`m just previewin it
This ain`t the show, I`m just EQ`n it
One-two and I won`t stop abusin it
To groupie girls, stop false accusin it
Back to the music - the Maybach roof is translucent
Niggaz got a problem Houston! Heh
What up B, they can`t shut up me
Shut down I, not even P.E., I`ma ride
God forgive me for my brash delivery
But I remember vividly what these streets did to me
So picture me lettin these clowns nitpick at me
Paint me like a pickany
I will literally kiss T.T. in the forehead
Tell her please forgive me then squeeze until you full `head
I`m not the one to score points off, in fact
I got a joint that`ll knock yo` points off
Young, Hova the God, nigga blasphemy
I`m at the Trump International, ask for me
I ain`t never scared, I`m everywhere you ain`t never there
And nigga, why would I ever care?
Pound for pound I`m the best to ever come around here
Excludin nobody, look what I embody
The soul of a hustler, I really ran the street
A CEO`s mind, that marketin plan was me
And no I ain`t get shot up a whole bunch of times
Or make up shit in a whole bunch of lines
And I ain`t animated like say I +Busta Rhymes+
But the real shit you get when you bust down my lines
Add that to the fact I went plat` a bunch of times
Times that by my influence on pop culture
I`m supposed to be number one on everybody list
We`ll see what happens when I no longer exist
Fuck this!

(What more can I sayyyyyyyyyyy?)

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[samples of Maximus from "Gladiator" - Russell Crowe]
"Are you not entertained? Are you not entertained?"
"Is this not why you are here?"

[Jay-Z]
Uh uh-huh..
Uh uh-huh UHH

{*crowd noise gets louder*}

Turn the music up, turn me down
Guru.. let`s go get `em again
This time it`s for the money my nigga
Brooklyn, stand up

[Verse One]
There`s never been a nigga this good for this long
This hood, or this pop, this hot, or this strong
With so many different flows there`s one for this song
The next one I switch up, this one will get bit up
These fucks, too lazy to make up shit, they crazy
They don`t, paint pictures, they just, trace me
You know what? Soon they forget where they plucked
they whole style from, they try to reverse the outcome
I`m like - TOUGH!
I`m not a biter I`m a writer for myself and others
I say a B.I.G. verse, I`m only biggin up my brother
Biggin up my borough, I`m big enough to do it
I`m that thorough, plus I know my own flow is foolish
So them rings and things you sing about, bring `em out
It`s hard to yell when the bar-rell`s in your mouth
I`m in - new sneakers, dual-seaters
Few divas, what more can I tell you?
Let me spell it for you
Double-U I, double-L, I-E
Nobody truer than, H-O-V
And I`m back for more, New York`s ambassador
Prime Minister, back to finish my business up

[Chorus]
What more can I sayyyyyyyyyyy?
What more can I doooooooooooo?
I gave this up to youuuuuuuuu
I know this much is truuuuuue, truuuuuuue

[Jay-Z]
What more can I say to you?
You heard it all

[Verse Two]
You already know what I`m about, flyin birds down South
Movin wet off the step, "Purple Rain" in a drought
Stuntin on hoes; brushin off my shirt
But ain`t nuttin on my clothes `cept my chain, my name
Young H-O pitch the yay faithful
Even if they patrol I make payroll
Benz paid fo`, friends they roll
Private jets down to Turks and Caicos
Crist` caseloads, I don`t give a shit
Nigga one life to live, I can`t let a day go
by without me bein fly or fresh to death
Head to toe `til the day I rest
And I don`t wear jerseys, I`m thirty plus
Give me a crisp pair of jeans, nigga button up
S. Dots on my feet make my cipher complete
What more can I say? Guru play the beat!

We gon` let this ride into the hook
- I`ma snap my fingers on this one
What more can I say to you?
- Get my grown man on
LET`S GO!

(What more can I sayyyyyyyyyyy?)

[Verse Three]
Now you know yo` ass is Willie when they got you in the mag
for like half a billy, and yo` ass ain`t lily
white that mean that shit you write must be illy
Either that or your flow is silly - it`s both
I don`t mean to boast, but damn if I don`t brag
Them crackers gon` act like I ain`t on they ass
The Martha Stewart, that`s far from Jewish
Far from a Harvard student, just had the balls to do it
And no I`m not through with it
In fact, I`m just previewin it
This ain`t the show, I`m just EQ`n it
One-two and I won`t stop abusin it
To groupie girls, stop false accusin it
Back to the music - the Maybach roof is translucent
Niggaz got a problem Houston! Heh
What up B, they can`t shut up me
Shut down I, not even P.E., I`ma ride
God forgive me for my brash delivery
But I remember vividly what these streets did to me
So picture me lettin these clowns nitpick at me
Paint me like a pickany
I will literally kiss T.T. in the forehead
Tell her please forgive me then squeeze until you full `head
I`m not the one to score points off, in fact
I got a joint that`ll knock yo` points off
Young, Hova the God, nigga blasphemy
I`m at the Trump International, ask for me
I ain`t never scared, I`m everywhere you ain`t never there
And nigga, why would I ever care?
Pound for pound I`m the best to ever come around here
Excludin nobody, look what I embody
The soul of a hustler, I really ran the street
A CEO`s mind, that marketin plan was me
And no I ain`t get shot up a whole bunch of times
Or make up shit in a whole bunch of lines
And I ain`t animated like say I +Busta Rhymes+
But the real shit you get when you bust down my lines
Add that to the fact I went plat` a bunch of times
Times that by my influence on pop culture
I`m supposed to be number one on everybody list
We`ll see what happens when I no longer exist
Fuck this!

(What more can I sayyyyyyyyyyy?)

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